


Midnight Discussions

by Mitsuhachi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Humiliation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-27
Updated: 2011-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:43:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mitsuhachi/pseuds/Mitsuhachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The difference between humiliation and shame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Discussions

In retrospect, Iruka probably shouldn’t have said anything. Just, they’d been on _school grounds_ for gods sakes, and before he’d even thought things through, he’d shoved Hatake-san into the teacher’s lounge with a hissed, “How can you even read that stuff?”

Which, of course, Hatake-san being himself had taken as a challenge. “What are you talking about, sensei? This is fine literature—“ and he’d kept talking right over Iruka’s indignant sputtering over what counted as ‘literature’ versus ‘shameless smut’. “You just don’t know, because you don’t read it. Listen,” and his voice changed, very subtly, as he lifted the book and started to read: just a little lower, almost husky, and Iruka could _feel_ the blood rushing to his face, god _dammit_.

“ _Tonight, when everyone is asleep, I’m going to come to you in your bed,” the masked assassin whispered, tracing the very tips of his fingers over Yuki’s flushed cheeks. “I’m going to kiss you, here,” he let his fingers trail down her long neck, “and here,” over her collar-bone, “ and then…_ ”

“Oh my god,” Iruka mumbled, feeling the way his heart was pounding, because this was his _workplace_ , he couldn’t be reacting to this, except that he completely was and it was going to be painfully obvious to everyone the second he walked back out that door even if he could keep from getting hard, which was looking more unlikely by the minute. They were going to think he was some kind of pervert, just like Hatake, and somehow the more horrified he was by the prospect, the more turned on he got until he couldn’t hardly breathe. And Hatake was watching him, seeing everything Iruka couldn’t control.

“Sensei,” he said, slipping the little book back into his hip-pouch. Iruka swallowed, hard, and couldn’t make himself answer. Very slowly, Hatake raised his hand and traced his fingers along the edge of Iruka’s jaw, and suddenly Iruka realized how close he was, leaning towards him like he was going to… “I think you had better get to class,” he breathed warm across Iruka’s lips, and he was all the way out into the hall before Iruka could process what he’d actually said.

****

A part of Iruka had thought that would be the end of it; everyone knew jounin tended to mess with people just for the sake of messing with them, and Hatake-san was certainly no exception. And if he couldn’t help thinking about what had happened, late at night in his bed when he was too tired to remember why he shouldn’t, that was his own business, wasn’t it? And if he was just a little bit awkward around the jounin, well, they didn’t work together much anyway and when they did, Iruka thought he was professional enough not to let it show.

So he’d really thought that would be the end of it, right up until he paused one night, breath harsh and panting as he fought the need the memory of Hatake’s voice stirred in him, in order to listen to the faint sounds of someone moving in his apartment. He thought of getting caught like this, half-dressed and flushed, obviously erect, and almost couldn’t stifle the moan. He forced himself to concentrate, though, letting go to fumble in the dark for his kunai.

“Relax, Sensei,” the voice said, and Iruka _knew_ that voice, didn’t he. “Just a social call,” the voice laughed and he did know it, the slow mocking tone of it. He’d played it over in his head too many times not to know it.

“Hatake-san,” he’d acknowledged, his voice strangled with humiliation.

“Ah—I’d think you could probably call me Kakashi. Seeing as how you’ve been masturbating to our little conversation for the past week.”

Iruka choked. “I…what? Why are you—“

Kakashi just laughed. “Well, you couldn’t really expect me not to be curious, not after the way you were acting.” Iruka was seriously starting to consider the merits of just not ever breathing again. It couldn’t possibly be as awful as continuing this conversation.

“Hatake-san, please—“ The faint outline of darker shadowing shifted and stepped just beside the bed.

“Kakashi,” soft and shivery in the darkness.

“I…Ka-kakashi-san, look, I—“ There were fingers resting on the inside of his wrist, hot and rough with calluses, and Iruka completely lost his train of thought.

“Come on, Iruka. Show me.” Very gently, the fingers pressed his hand down towards his hips. Iruka snatched it away like he’d been burned.

“What? I can’t just—“

“No? You seemed to manage fairly well before,” Iruka whimpered, and tried not to notice the way his erection ached. He didn’t think he’d ever been this hard before. “Still, I can talk you through it if that’s what you need.” And screw dignity, all of Iruka’s concentration went to not coming right that instant.

“Put your hand on your stomach,” Kakashi told him, and Iruka was torn enough between arousal and sheer mortification that he couldn’t even bring himself to think about what he was doing as he obeyed. “Now slide it down. Can you feel the mess you’re making? You’re as wet as a woman; you must have been so close before.” And he was, god, he didn’t know how he was going to keep from embarrassing himself even more at this rate, and the way Kakashi’s voice had gone rough and uneven wasn’t helping at _all_.

“Touch your fingers just to the very tip,” Kakashi said, and slowly, slowly Iruka did, hardly touching at all because the last thing he needed now was more stimulation. Somewhere in the dark Kakashi was watching him writhe like a whore, already so close his breathing was closer to sobs—cool, impassive Kakashi whose voice was breaking with arousal of his own.

“I can’t, please—I’m going to—“ Iruka didn’t even dare move his hand away, just laid there shaking with want and then suddenly there was the rough pressure of lips against his, the faint scrape of stubble and only Kakashi drinking in the sound kept everyone in the building from hearing Iruka scream as he came.

When Iruka finally, still panting, managed to sit up enough to flick on the bedside lamp, he was completely alone.

********

Iruka managed to avoid Kakashi for almost three weeks. He’d stopped his usual after-school informal helping at the Hokage’s office, invited Naruto to come to his apartment instead of meeting him at the village gates after team 7’s missions. After the first week, Kakashi was called out on a solo mission and it became easier, though the sick rush of shame and disappointment still ambushed him now and again, most often late at night when his windows stayed shut and no footsteps echoed on his floor.

Until, of course, the night when they did. Iruka reached for the lamp first this time, angry and ashamed. Instead of the enigmatic and self-possessed figure he’d expected, though, Kakashi was currently half-collapsed and still sluggishly bleeding on the floor beneath the windowsill.

“There are locks on the windows for a reason, you know,” he bit out and then cursed a little to himself because no matter how angry he was, he still wasn’t going to let a ninja of his village sit there with untended wounds while he had a first-aid kit. He pulled the little field-kit out of his vest where it hung by the bed and got up.

“They make great decorations,” Kakashi mumbled, and Iruka started to wonder how much blood he’d lost to sound so out of it. The leg of his uniform-pants was torn in a wide jagged line, leaving the clean slice of the sword-wound easily visible. Iruka tore it the rest of the way free and soaked a rag in disinfectant, and yes he was petty enough to take a small enjoyment out of the way it made Kakashi wince.

“I do know you’re too good for me, you know,” Kakashi mumbled as Iruka wound the bandage around his thigh. Iruka wanted to laugh, if it hadn’t hurt so much. But Kakashi shook his head. “I mean it—you have all these morals, and I can’t help wanting to poke holes in them, see you get just a little dirty. Not so far out of reach when ‘m makin’ you all flustered…” Iruka just stared: the jounin sounded relatively sincere, for him, but also very odd.

“Were you drugged?” Kakashi shook his head. Iruka frowned. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” He reached over to start trying to lift the taller man onto his feet, but Kakashi put a hand over his wrist before he could.   
“Don’t. ‘M fine—I just wanted to talk to you. Keep slipping away, and then I was gone…Wanted to be with you, ‘s all.” Kakashi’s head fell down to rest on Iruka’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna leave yet,” he mumbled, and then let out a little sigh and passed out.

Iruka thought about what Kakashi had said all the way through carrying him to the hospital. He thought about it while the mednin ran their tests and the nurses cleaned out and covered the minor cuts Iruka hadn’t gotten to. He thought about it the whole rest of the night in the uncomfortable little chair he’d dragged out of the hall and into Kakashi’s hospital-room. Just after dawn he left the hospital, but only for a little while, and he was back well before Kakashi woke up.

Kakashi didn’t move, didn’t shift or yawn or stretch on waking up. Most ninja didn’t, as a matter of habit, and this wasn’t where Kakashi had gone to sleep. So Iruka wasn’t surprised when Kakashi pushed himself up abruptly out of what had looked like a dead sleep, eyeing Iruka warily. Iruka just set his grading on the side-table and looked back at him seriously.

“Two things.” Kakashi didn’t even move. “Don’t ever do that to me again—I’m not a toy for you to play with and abandon.” Iruka could see the tightening shape of Kakashi clenching his jaw, the tense little nod, and continued, reaching into his pocket for the thing he’d gone out to get earlier. “And stop breaking into my house.” Kakashi closed his eyes tight, nodding again, only for them to shoot back open as Iruka pressed the little metal key into his hand. Iruka couldn’t help but smile at the sheer confusion on his face. “The next time you want to…” and dammit, he just knew he was blushing again, “to talk to me, at night? Use this.”

Kakashi’s grin showed straight through the mask.


End file.
